Maria |

“Take me with you, please, Mister Conroy. I will go anywhere with you, do anything you ask, with no trouble.” 

I was stunned. I had spent the previous two days and nights ually using Maria in every way possible, even to the point of binding her and flogging her. I never truly injured her—I’m not a monster—but still … 

Her Central American family, in danger of losing their ranch, had “given” this stunning woman to me in return for paying their mortgage up to date. She had accepted the deal and accompanied me willingly to this remote cabin.  

I had penetrated her in every orifice, ran her through every act possible within the limited scope of the furniture and equipment here. Her firm but voluptuous thirtyyearold body had been amazing to contemplate by the light of the single fireplace.  

A vision she was. Her face and body were often gleaming with the sweat of strenuous activity, along with my cum, our saliva and her juices. The flexible senorita had often been restrained in various and rigorous bondage poses. (Rope? We had plenty of that in the cabin. We also had an abundance of my passion for seeing a beautiful woman bound.) 

For fiftysome hours, Maria had weathered every kink I could come up with out here, but managed to maintain a certain level of dignity and grace amongst it all.  At times, we had even cuddled and held each other before I again ruthlessly took advantage of her commitment to my bargain.  

Right now, she was a mess: hair tangled, nose and eyes swollen and red from stress and lack of sleep. I assumed she would eagerly go back to her home, but she now declared her desire to stay with me.  

“My life here is hell since my husband died,” she explained. “I am treated like a slave, and that will be made worse by the local people imagining what has been done to me here, or what we have done together.“ 

“Together?” I asked her.  

“Did I not give you my all? Did I not provide you with ideas and inspiration once I found out what you liked?  Did I not …” 

The darkskinned beauty paused. She spoke excellent English, so she was not looking for the right words.  

Or perhaps she was. 

 “…enjoy much of our time together? And willingly followed the rest of your commands? I have never felt so alive, so vital, as I have these last two days.” 

I had detected that, but for her to actually want to accompany me on my nomadic travels through the Americas was astonishing.  

“Maria,” I told her, “you know that I am a man with money, but no home. A man with a certain moral code, but a deep love of Dominance and kink. My wealthy family has rejected me because of my … peculiar appetites.”  

“Mister Conroy, you could have done so much worse to me, out here. Ultimately, you could have …” 

She paused again, implying the unthinkable. She started again.   

“No one would have stopped you, no one would have looked for me. I married into the family down here, a foreigner that they looked down upon because I also have ‘peculiar appetites,’ ones that their son could not quite fulfill. Appetites that compliment your own, it would seem.” 

Her nipples were hard, her breathing accelerated, her face flushed. She was rolling the dice for chance at a new life. A new life with a homeless wanderer, a hobo—albeit one with a trust fund—in search of what, I knew not. 

Adventure? Experiences?  

Romance? With a partner? I had not considered that before today. Perhaps I could start a new life, a real life. Start a business, start a family. Had I fallen for this woman? 

I made my decision. 

“I’m going, Maria,” I told her as I scooped up the keys to my jeep. She slumped in disappointment, perhaps in despair.  

“Oh, I’ll be back,” I added. “I need to go into the village to get you some clothing and makeup. You can’t travel with the few rags that I left you with.” (At one point, I had torn off her most of her clothing and burned it in the fireplace, to establish her submissive status.) 

Maria gasped and nearly knocked me over when she ran into my arms to kiss me. Hard and deep. 

My cock rose to the occasion, but I resisted the temptation to take her again. I would give it a rest, knowing that I would have full use of Maria for some time to come. 

“When we leave,” I asked her when we came up for breath, “do you want to stop by the ranch house and say goodbye?”  

“Only if you buy me the prettiest dress in town to wear for when I do.”  

“Is that a demand, my dear?” I asked, taking her neck in my right hand, pushing her back to the wall, asserting my authority, in a dance we had done several times in the previous hours.  

“No sir,” she softly replied. “Only a request, in order to look my best for you. Never a demand. I will wear anything you want me to. Or as little as you want me to. Always.” 

I smiled.   

“Write down your measurements, Maria. I’ll want to show you off.” 

As she did so, I asked, “Did you say ‘prettiest’ or ‘sluttiest’ dress, Maria?”

She smiled. “I will leave that to you, sir. I will always leave that to you.”